


Seven First Times Dick Grayson Might Have Had

by zarabithia



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-28
Updated: 2007-08-28
Packaged: 2019-05-21 06:51:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14910456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: Seven different accounts of Dick losing his virginity to someone besides the random redhead in Nightwing.





	Seven First Times Dick Grayson Might Have Had

Dick hasn’t seen Garth in a long time - not since before Mr. Jupiter began controlling his team. So when Garth requests a meeting at their old lair, Dick is only too happy to oblige. He’s so happy to see Garth, in fact, that he almost doesn’t notice the downward gaze or the way Garth nibbles on his bottom lip while Dick waits for him to speak. But years worth of training by Bruce and years worth of observation of his teammates that has swung from casual to obsessive override the happiness Dick feels in seeing his friend again and twists his own expression into a frown of concern.

Dick doesn’t know what’s wrong, but he knows Garth well enough to know that _pushing_ his teammate won’t do any good. Whatever’s wrong, Dick is willing to wait until Garth feels comfortable enough to share by his own accord.  His patience is rewarded when Garth stops staring at the empty pool bottom long enough to say, "I need your help."

"You’ve got it," Dick says immediately, clasping a hand easily on Garth’s shoulder. He’s confused at the way Garth tenses and pulls away.

"Don’t be so sure of that," Garth says quietly. "You haven’t heard my request yet."

"You’re my friend. Any help I can give you, I will." Dick knows that it’s been a while since they’ve seen each other, but surely he wasn’t _so bad_ a friend that Garth doesn’t _know_ that he can depend on Dick.

Dick thinks of his other Titan teammates and resolves to visit them after he and Garth are done - to make sure he hasn’t been such a lousy friend to them too.

"This isn’t about being a friend," Garth corrects, sounding impossibly more miserable by the second. "It’s about being a _warrior._ "

"I don’t know what you mean, Garth. If it‘s something to do with battle, why didn't we have the other Titans meet us too?"

Garth turns towards him slowly, purple eyes only reluctantly meeting his. "According to the rules of my people, I am obligated to … join with a fellow warrior of my choosing before my eighteenth birthday." Garth pauses, blinks rapidly at the expression that Dick isn’t concealing as well as he’d hoped he was, then glanced down at his toes. "Or Arthur will chose one for me."

Dick follows his teammate’s gaze, past the blue shorts that compliment his own, and feels the familiar shiver somersault across his spine as he takes in the swimmer’s muscled legs. They match an acrobat’s well, Dick thinks, and swallows hard to push back the guilt for the thought. Garth’s in love with _Tula_ and besides, Garth needs his help.

And if Dick wasn’t so busy letting his mind wander, he might have figured out what it is, exactly, that Garth needs from him.

"Join?" Dick frowns and scrapes his toe nail along the sole of his shoes. "Do mean join as in marry, or join as in …" Dick curses the blush he feels creeping up his neck and before he can quite finish the sentence, Garth saves him from having to say it aloud.

"Join as in have sex with," Garth corrects. It’s a muffled correction, as Garth’s chin seems determined to crawl inside his chest.

"Oh." Dick’s not _stupid_ , and he’s very capable of putting two and two together. He’s just not sure why he’s the four Garth is looking for. "Tula isn’t willing to … help?" he asks hesitantly.

"She was willing," Garth corrects, and though his head stays down, hands clench into fists at his side and anger almost takes over the embarrassment. "But she can’t. The rules … only males count as fellow warriors to my people."

"That’s _stupid_ ," Dick says, certain that when it came down to it, Donna _or_ Tula could kick the ass of the entirety of Atlantis’ so-called warriors.

Garth’s chin lifts defiantly, and something like anger slips over his face. "If you aren’t willing, that is fine. I shall return to Atlantis and allow Arthur to make the choice for me. But please don’t disparage my people, Dick."

"Garth, I didn’t mean it like that. I just - why _me_?"

"Who else is there?" Garth asks with a slight shrug. The anger leaves him and his chin goes back to trying to retreat into the safety of his chest. "I could ask no one who is not a Titan. Wally would find the idea repulsive and Roy…Roy would find _me_ repulsive."

"Roy wouldn’t," Dick protests.

"In any case, it is not me he desires. I am sorry to burden you, Dick, but you were my only hope."

Dick can’t help but feel disappointed that he’s only been asked because Garth has no other choice. Still, it’s not as though he can tell his friend no. And he certainly can’t allow _Aquaman_ to designate a stranger to … _join_ with Garth.

He slides his hand into Garth’s and waits for Garth to raise his head and look at him. "You’re my friend. I want to help you," he says.

It’s not the way Dick imagined he’d lose his virginity, but the relieved smile that crosses his friend’s face is almost enough to make him not care.

****

Dick has spent what he’s sure must have been hundreds of hours imagining what his first time would be like. No detail was spared in his imaginings - the who, what, when, where, how, and why have all been carefully planned and plotted out, to the best of Dick’s teenage capabilities. Somehow he’d never figured time travel to play a role.

Yet, he’s not really surprised.

And though Donna and the rest of the gang seem to want to argue against the time travel theory, Dick knows that the mouth wrapped around him, joining the fingers inside him in trying so hard to drive him crazy, is doing an entirely too good of a job of pushing all the right buttons for him not to be telling the truth.

" _Robin,_ " Dick calls softly in response to the other boy‘s efforts, both because the other boy won’t tell him his real name, and because even if he would, Dick’s not sure that calling his real name would cause the same degree of response.

He’s pretty sure that the other boy’s real name _wouldn’t_ cause the same little shiver across the back of _his_ neck as _"Robin."_

Dick’s vaguely aware of the wrongness, vaguely aware that he should care more about the circumstances that will lead to a second Robin … a _replacement_ … than the circumstances that will lead to the man in his bed knowing exactly when to run his fingernails down his thighs to make Dick lose control that way.

Fortunately, Dick is completely spared of any ability to think of anything _at all_ as he has the first shared orgasm of his life.

When the white clears from behind his eyes and Dick is able to focus again, his trembling and inexperienced hands reach for Robin in an effort to repay the favor.

Robin guides him, occasionally murmuring pointers that the other boy assures Dick originally came from _his_ mouth, and that makes Dick feel better about his sheer comparative incompetence. Robin’s eventual climax into his hands makes Dick feel better too.

But the boy lying next to him doesn’t look _happy,_ and that makes Dick feel obligated to apologize for his ineptitude.

"Don’t apologize," Robin says softly. "There’s nothing to be sorry for. I enjoyed myself thoroughly."

"You don’t look very happy about it," Dick says doubtfully, laying his head on his pillow.

"Trust me," Robin says, turning and rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling, "I’m happier right now than I have been in a long time."

****

Dick has been on the receiving end of more than one Alfred lecture about the evils of Chef Boyardee. He can recite it by memory by now, from the concerns about the lack of real meat to the displeasure with the addition of preservatives.

But as much as Dick loves Alfred, he honestly doesn’t care what the older man thinks about the canned food. As far as Dick is concerned, Chef Boyardee is food fit for gods.

Alfred might think so too, if Alfred had any way of knowing just how good the microwaved food tasted when combined with cranberry-juice flavor of Roy Harper’s tongue.

Or how delicious the preservative-laden sauce tastes when lapped off of Roy’s chin.

Or, for that matter, how perfectly the meat filler goes with the dried taste of come as Dick and Roy lay back, exhausted, on the couch of Oliver Queen’s nearly empty apartment and allow the fatty ravioli to settle in the pits of their stomachs.

No, Dick thinks, Alfred might not approve, but Chef Boyardee has a secure spot as his favorite food of all time.

It is, after all, responsible for helping him lose his virginity to the man he’s wanted for years.

****

Dick doesn’t know a lot about Dinah Lance. Comparatively, he knows a lot more about Black Canary than he does the woman behind the mask and under the fishnets. About all he does know is that the woman was there to pick up his teammate when Speedy so desperately needed it, and was kind enough to let Dick sit in on the detoxings when she should have slammed the door in his face.

But then, if Dinah was any good at slamming doors in the right faces, she wouldn’t have dated the man foolish enough to hurt someone who obviously loved freely and unconditionally.

Dick doesn’t know a lot about Dinah Lance, but that part of her personality is obvious even to him. That’s the part that made her reach out to Speedy, and the that’s the part that has made her willing to allow Dick to tag along on her visits to the rehab center.

He also knows that she’s one of the strongest women the hero community has. So for her to cry in his presence… Well, Dick’s disgust for Oliver Queen really _is_ capable of growing, no matter what he might previously have thought.

"Dinah," he says softly, wiping away tears he know would anger Speedy. "You deserve so much better."

"He has his good points," Dinah responds with a soft smile. At Dick’s snort, she adds, "When he’s capable of keeping his dick in his pants."

Dick answers with a kiss.

He doesn’t mean to. Kissing the mother-figure of his teammate is the _last_ thing he means to do, but the tilt of her head, the watery eyes framed by the soft black hair that makes her seem so much more approachable than the blond does…

Dick wraps a handful of that black hair around his fingers as he continues the unprotested kiss.

When she starts to move, Dick feels a twist of panic in his gut as the realization of what he’s done begins to dawn.

The panic eases when Dinah reaches her hands under his shirt. It’s with shaking hands that Dick returns the favor.

Dick continues to allow Dinah to set the course for their activities, as he does his best to make sure every tear is dried.

****

He’d been trying to finish his English homework, as depressing as Hemingway might be. Unfortunately, the angry slam of his bedroom door interrupts any possibility that Dick is going to finish his book in the foreseeable future. Seeing that the angry intruder is _Donna_ , Dick folds over the tab on page seventy-two and shoves the book off to the side, attention fully diverted to the angry Wonder Girl in his presence.

"Boys are _stupid_ ," Donna announces as she flops down next to Dick on his bed.

"Hey! I’m not stupid," Dick objects. He receives a smack to the ear for his efforts.

"You don’t count, Dick. I meant the other boys."

Dick sticks his tongue out at her and shifts so that Donna has more room to sit on the bed and he can hang backwards off the mattress. Tapping his feet idly against the wall, he asks patiently, "Wally or Roy?"

" _Both_ ," Donna answers as she sulks against the same wall his feet are leaning against.

"Ah. What did they do this time?"

"They were _bragging._ " Dick doesn’t have time to ask what they were bragging about before he feels the bed shift and suddenly Donna’s ponytail smacks him in the face as she flips back off the side of the mattress too. She lies on her stomach, while Dick lies on his back, and Dick unconsciously changes the rhythm of his leg tapping against the wall in order to match her rhythm. Her blue eyes stare at him with a mixture of irritation and hurt. "Why is virginity so important to guys, anyway?"

"Um…" He really thought Wally and Roy had more sense than that. But …well, they are always telling him he’s not a normal red-blooded male. Maybe they’re right, because he doesn’t have any good answer for Donna. "I’m not sure. I mean - it’ll be nice not to be one." Dick blushes all over at the eyebrow she raises and he goes back to staring up at the ceiling that looks very much like cottage cheese.

"I don’t mean the _guy’s_ virginity," Donna says after a moment. "I mean the _girl’s._ Why’s it so important? So important they have to brag about _taking_ it?"

"I don’t know, Donna. Some guys are like that, I guess." Dick frowns and sits up, suddenly feeling dizzy and not at all sure it is because of the blood rush to the head. "They weren’t bragging about _you_ , were they?" Because he loves Wally and Roy, too, but if they hurt Donna, Dick won’t feel bad about hurting _them_.

Donna rolls her eyes as she sits up and crosses her legs. "No, Dick. They couldn’t have been. I - fortunately - haven’t been dumb enough to sleep with either one of them." She scowls and punches the mattress hard enough that there’s a small snapping sound that Dick figures is probably one of the springs breaking. "And I’m never going to sleep with anyone - _ever_. Stupid boys. My virginity will just end up being some boy’s stupid bragging right."

"Hey! We’re not _all_ that bad. I wouldn’t do that." Realizing what he’s said, Dick sighs and bites his lip. "I mean not that you would ever - um…" Dick trails off, every detective sense Batman ever taught him trying to figure out what Donna’s look means.

He doesn’t have to wonder long. Donna pounces him, and there’s another snap of a poor mattress spring breaking beneath Amazon strength. He understands how it feels. "Um, Donna?"

"That’s the solution!" Donna is squealing with what looks to be laughter, and although Dick is very confused, her happiness is contagious and he finds himself grinning back, even though he isn't quite sure why. "Clearly, we should have sex with each other!"

He’s even more confused than ever. "Um, we should?" Not that his body is repulsed by the idea, because it’s very much _not._

Donna nods emphatically. "You have…um, protection, right? Condoms, and stuff?"

"Yeah." Dick frowns and doesn’t mention that Bruce makes certain he’s well stocked before sending him away on Titan get togethers. Dick isn’t sure what Bruce thinks is going on during the Titan gatherings, but up until this minute, he’s really been off on his assumptions.

"Good. Because you’re cute, but Diana would kill you if there was an accident. And I’m not strong enough to protect you from Wonder _Woman_."

"Can we back up to the part where you decided we should have sex?" Dick asks, wondering if that question sounds as odd to her as it does to him. "Because I normally pride myself in my deduction skills, but …"

"It’s simple," Donna says patiently. "You’re tired of being a virgin. I don’t want my first time to be with some jerk who’s gonna brag about it. So…." Donna waves her hand dismissively, and then her teeth sink into her lower lip. Dick’s pretty sure he’d do anything to put the smile _back_ on her face. "We don’t _have_ to. I just thought…"

"It’s a good idea," Dick assures quickly. "It makes perfect sense."

Donna looks relieved, but she continues staring at him for a few minutes before asking, "But do you _want_ to?"

"Donna Troy, I love you." Donna’s smile widens, and Dick feels encouraged enough to add, "There is no other way I’d rather spend my afternoon than with you. And no other person I would trust for _my_ first time."

"I love you too, Dick." Donna reaches up and undoes the clasp holding her hair in place, and Dick watches as it falls across her shoulders, feeling a familiar pang of want clutch his chest. "Let’s just hope we don’t interrupted by Mad Mod or some other creep."

"I’m sure Wally and Roy can handle it."

"Sounds fair to me."

****

Dick still remembers when the cave floor had been a place to cry until his throat hurt and his eyes burned from all the tears they had shed.

Today, the cave means something entirely different. It’s funny how a thick blanket spread over a training mat and an enthusiastic girlfriend can have such a drastic effect.

The only noticeable similarity between then and now is that his throat still hurts, but this time it's from trying to stifle the moans that are struggling to break free. Because Alfred coming down and checking on them is the last thing they need.

Palms that had once scraped across the hardness of the cave floor on purpose, in an attempt to make himself stop crying over his loss, now dance lightly across Barbara’s bare back.

Dick catches a glimpse of Batgirl’s boots off to the side of the training mat, discarded almost the instant that they’d heard of Batman’s space mission, and he can’t help but remember how he’d once sat curled in that pathetic little ball, certain nothing but more hurt awaited him.

He smiles at his own past foolishness, an expression which grows wider with each downward thrust of Barbara’s hips.

****

They’ve kissed before. Many times, often above the clouds somewhere between Gotham and Metropolis. Clark’s arms would be wrapped possessively around Dick and the younger of the two men would find it suddenly nearly impossible to breathe as the altitude and taste of Superman became an entirely too heady experience to handle.

They’ve groped each other before. Lying on Clark’s large blue couch in an otherwise unassuming Metropolis apartment, Dick’s hands have spent more than their fair share of time roaming over alien muscles tempered with Midwestern kindness.

But there is one step they’ve not yet taken. That final step that Dick has fantasized and wanted for _years_ has always been one Clark hesitated to allow them, even after Dick’s eighteenth birthday had come and gone.

He’d wanted to make sure Dick was ready.  Dick understands, and has tried to be patient, because if Clark had behaved any other way, it wouldn’t _be_ the Clark Dick loved and wanted so much.

But the wait has been frustrating.

Dick is delighted to discover the adage, "good things come to those who wait" goes doubly true when dealing with Clark Kent as he stares up at the man who still holds Dick’s wrinkled bow-tie in one hand as Dick arches into the other hand, possessively rubbing against Dick’s groin. The remnants of both their clothes are strewn across the apartment; there might even be a belt or two left out on the balcony.

Or, quite possibly, a pair of boxers. Dick doesn’t remember them actually coming off, but they had magically disappeared by the time they'd gotten to the bedroom nonetheless.

"Clark," Dick whines softly, squirming into the older man’s palm.

Clark increases his rubbing, while whispering in Dick’s ear, "Do you have any idea how hard it was to restrain myself with you dressed as _my_ copy boy?"

Dick grins and retorts with mock-innocence, "Golly, Mr. Kent, I was just trying to do my job."

Dick decides he rather likes the way Clark’s eyes widen at the teasing, and decides he likes the way Clark’s mouth clamps down on his lips even more. Even if breathing does become a rather challenging task.

It’s a task that grows in difficulty as the night’s activities wear on.


End file.
